A guide to what we’ve done to get ourselves here and then what we’re doing to get ourselves out. Here’s hoping for happy endings
Sunday, August 30, 2009
DREAMS & OMENS
In less than a day we should be behind the wheel of our sixteen footer and on the road heading west, the city behind us. Is this the right choice?
Last night Rick slid in beside me and nestled is body into the crescent of mine. It woke me in a way that smelled of his shampoo and warmed my body. It was that waking that is only momentary, not the kind I had been experiencing the past several months. The kind that once you’ve woken you know you’ll never fall back asleep. This was the sweet kind that ends with a sigh and then is gone as quickly as it came as you drift back to sleep. When I finally did wake Rick was gone back to the living room couch blurring my reality with a dream.
I rarely wake from a dream state with the memory of the dream still intact but this morning was different. I expected nightmares what with all of the pressures of packing and dealing with all of the other worries pressing on my mind but what I got was far from nightmare and totally unaccountable. What I got was a sense of joy. The dream began at a charity event at a gleaming New York venue perched on top of some deco building dripping in gilded ironwork, lit with candles in sliver chandeliers suspended from the ceiling, white linen everywhere and tables impeccably set with the best bone china and sparkling silverplate. We sat on those faux bamboo rental chairs that caterers use painted silver with white satin cushions. I was dressed in tails, something I would never do, sitting at a table between Margaret Russell, the editor of Elle Decor and Lisa Jasper, a great friend and PR agent. Margaret was extremely animated and kept talking about all of her food preferences. She had somehow become allergic to almost everything. She kept everyone entertained in a way that made me realize this was definitely a dream. Lisa kept whispering to me in a way particular to her personality; unobtrusively and with a smile. She insisted she wanted to dance, which I thought was a little awkward and rude since one very rarely finds Ms. Russell in such an entertaining mood. Somehow we found ourselves on another floor and I finally gave in. Lisa and I raced up the steps to the main ballroom just as the music was starting. I remembered the opening waltz position Giles and his partner assumed on “Dancing with the Stars”, that’s how we looked and that’s where I woke up for real, Lisa and I on the floor, smiling and waiting for the waltz to begin.
I got up, shaved, put another box together, showered, packed some toiletries and got dressed. Chaotic at best. When I went to get my change and wallet from yesterday’s pants I noticed something in the bottom of my pocket, a small pebble or piece of trash caught in the fold at the bottom of the interior lining of my pocket. I was about to throw it away when I realized what it was. Emmy’s babytooth. I dug deeper and there was another one. The day before I had seen the pain on Rick’s face as he realized I had thrown the teeth away from a box he had on the top of our dresser. I thought they had been lost when all the time I was carrying them around in my pocket. I can ‘t wait to wake Rick to tell him.
If you can read this blog you are definitely not on the bottom rung of the ladder of life. Like my mother would chide us when we refused to clean our plates at mealtime, “Clean that plate, there are plenty of people in China who have nothing to eat. Be thankful that you’re belly isn't running on empty.”